


What's Your Number

by Nutella_enthusiast



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Bartender! Scott, F/M, Future Fic, Idk whatever, M/M, i guess he works at a gay bar?, this is basically just pure crack fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 15:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1433074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nutella_enthusiast/pseuds/Nutella_enthusiast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm just saying," says Stiles, throwing his hands up in the air. "If I tried, I bet I could get any guy's number in this place."</p><p>"Oh really?" asks Isaac, looking Stiles up and down, from the torn up converse on his feet to the dark circles under his eyes. "You want to put money on that?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's Your Number

**Author's Note:**

> Oh god I was trying to write mahealahey smut and suddenly this happened. I can't decide if I like it that much but whatever I guess it's okay and I'm glad I've finally actually finished something, so here it is in all it's unedited glory.  
> It's kinda rushed and shitty but hey I guess it's not my worst story ever and that's what counts  
> Bet you have really high expectations now, huh?

Isaac really should've expected to run into Stiles here at some point, considering Stiles' love for both Scott and the pink fruity drinks that he can't get anywhere else without being made fun of. He'd kind of hoped it would take longer though, and he's seriously considering sneaking off to the dance floor and just not getting a drink until Stiles has left, but before he can, Scott spots him from his perch behind the bar, where he's mixing two kinds of equally disgusting looking brightly colored liquids. "Isaac!" he calls, pouring the liquids into a glass and sliding it in front of Stiles, who already has three more empty glasses in front of him.

Stiles lets out a loud, incomprehensible groan and sets his forehead down on the bar. 

"What was that buddy?" asks Scott, leaning forward and putting his hand on his best friend's shoulder as Isaac takes a seat at the barstool next to him. 

"Don't invite pretty boy," grumbles Stiles, and Isaac's not sure if Stiles is actually upset or has just had a little too much to drink, but he thinks that it might be both. "He's a ruiner. He ruins things with his stupid pretty face and his stupid scarves."

Isaac sighs. "What did I do this time?" he asks, nodding to Scott in thanks as he slides his usual in front of him.

Stiles mumbles something about stealing his boyfriend and Isaac rolls his eyes. So Stiles and Derek have gotten in another ridiculous fight. He's about to say something about only being at the loft for work business while Stiles was out, but Stiles is still muttering mutinously under his breath, so Isaac decides to just let it go, sipping his drink slowly while he stares out onto the dance floor.

That's when he hears Stiles mutter, "you're not even that pretty."

"Excuse me?" asks Isaac, turning back to where Stiles is slumped over his empty drinks.

"I'm just saying," says Stiles, throwing his hands up in the air. "If I tried, I bet I could get any guy's number in this place."

"Oh really?" asks Isaac, looking Stiles up and down, from the torn up converse on his feet to the dark circles under his eyes. "You want to put money on that?"

"Fine," snaps Stiles. "10 bucks."

"Fine," says Isaac, pulling a 10 out of his wallet and slapping it down on the bar.

"Scott, would you like to pick someone?" asks Stiles, not taking his gaze off of Isaac.

Scott and Isaac share a look before Scott rolls his eyes, not even bothering to try to argue at this point. "How about..." He scans the dance floor for a moment before he finally points at a familiar dark haired head in the distance. "That guy."

"That guy? With the designer jeans and the bangin' booty? I can do that. That's..." The man turns his face to look at the door, as if he's expecting someone, and Stiles freezes. "That's Danny. Scott. Scott that's Danny."

"You said anyone," says Isaac, smirking.

"Right," says Stiles, taking a deep breath to collect himself. "Right, I said anyone. I can do this. So what if I haven't talked to him since that one weird night in high school. So what if I didn't even know he was back in Beacon Hills..."

He disappears off into the crowd, still muttering to himself, and Isaac and Scott almost immediately burst out laughing.

"Think he can do it?" asks Scott with a grin.

"You know, for some reason I feel like he's going to crash and burn. Call it a hunch."

Sure enough, Stiles returns not five minutes later, his frown even more pronounced and a bright red hand print on the side of his face.

"No?" asks Isaac, smirking.

Stiles just makes a face and sits back down. "I'd like to see you try. Another 10 says he slaps you too."

Isaac's smirk widens. "Fine," he says again. He throws back the rest of his drink, and makes his way across the crowded dance floor, stopping when he's right behind the dark haired boy and tapping him on the shoulder.

Scott and Stiles watch from across the room with bated breath, Scott trying his hardest to stop the smile he feels playing at the corners of his mouth. Danny turns, and the moment he sees Isaac his face lights up in a grin. Stiles grumbles something under his breath and lifts his drink up to take a swig of it, glaring at the two boys on the other side of the dance floor. Danny says something that they can't make out over the music, and Isaac replies quickly. The dark haired boy's smile widens, and he stretches up on his toes to kiss Isaac passionately, full on the mouth. Isaac kisses back enthusiastically. Stiles chokes.

"What the hell?" he coughs, as Danny hands Isaac a slip of paper and Isaac sidles back to the bar.

"Got his number," says Isaac with a triumphant grin, waving the scrap of paper at Stiles. "Pay up."

Stiles mutters something under his breath about Isaac getting lucky but pulls a 20 out of his wallet and slaps it down in Isaac's palm.

"Oh for God's sakes Stiles," snaps Isaac, rolling his eyes and sitting back down next to him. "Do you realize that you're 25 years old and you've been dating the love of your life for eight years? So the fuck what if I got more "lucky," than you tonight? It's only because I wasn't lucky enough when I was 17 to meet my soul mate or whatever then, so I'm pretty sure that instead of sitting at a gay bar complaining about me getting the phone number of some guy you kind of had a thing for in your sophomore year of high school, you should be going home and dealing with the fact that you and Derek have been together for almost a decade, and you still get worried that he's going to leave you for the first curly haired blonde that comes by."

Stiles stares at Isaac in shock for a moment, mouth hanging wide open, before Scott reaches forward across the bar and gently shuts it. "He's got a point you know," says Scott.

"You guys are the worst," mutters Stiles, but he gets up, knocks back the last of whatever pink monstrosity was in his glass and wanders off towards the door, presumably to make the 5 minute walk back to his and Derek's apartment and apologize.

"Things are going good with Danny then?" asks Scott with a smirk, turning back to Isaac once he's sure Stiles has made it out the door.

"So good," says Isaac, a dreamy smile spreading across his face. "It'll have been two months since our first date tomorrow. We were thinking about telling people soon, but if that's what's going to happen if we don't tell people yet, I think it might be fun to keep it a secret for a little longer."

"I'm really happy for you bro," says Scott with a grin, slapping his friend on the shoulder. "Now go dance with your boyfriend."

Isaac laughs. "Yeah, okay." He moves to walk over to Danny, then freezes and turns back. "So, I know I told Stiles I wasn't lucky enough to meet my soul mate at 17, but I'm starting to think that maybe I did. It just took me a while to realize it."

Scott stares at Isaac's retreating back in shock for a minute, before spinning on one heel and sprinting to the back door. "Andrew, I'm taking a break!" he shouts as he throws himself into the back alley and pulls his phone out of his pocket.

"I need to tell you something," he says breathlessly, the moment she answers the phone, not even giving her a chance to say hello.

He can practically hear her smirk. "Took you long enough," she says.

"I - you knew?"

"I got a Field's Medal when I was 19 Scott, of course I knew. I was just wondering how long it'd take you to figure out."

"Can I say it anyways?"

"Go ahead," she says with a laugh.

"I love you."

"I know."

"Lydia..."

She laughs again. "Fine, fine. I love you too."


End file.
